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“This has nothing to do with anyone. I value your friendship, but I have no intention of dating you or anyone else,” I admit quietly. Beau and I aren’t yet settled here, then and only then will I consider dating someone. Someone I like and not who my mother considers is suitable.
“You can’t stay single forever.” He tuts. “Besides, I've put years into us and Beau.”
“We have never even kissed or discussed our friendship progressing. You can’t just assume you’re dating me, Marcus,” I say, confused. I'm somewhat appalled the situation has got this far without me realising.
“I know that, but I at least thought after all we have shared, it would progress,” he mutters indignantly. “We have so much potential, Holly.”
“We’re friends. That's all I wanted,” I declare firmly, hoping he will understand this isn't going any further.
“What about what I want?” He scoffs, seeming more like my mother by the second.
“You never voiced what you wanted. Even now, it was me who brought it up because my mum kept making remarks,” I remind him. “I didn't choose to discuss this to argue. I wanted to clear the air and move forward.”
“I'm not sure I can,” he admits, shaking his head in disgust at me. “I put so much time into you, Beau. You’re being so selfish, Holly. Your mother can see this is a good fit. Why can’t you?”
“It’s evident you discuss this far more with her than you ever felt was necessary with me,” I reply. “You seem to have a closer and more open relationship with her, so perhaps she would fit you better.” His face drops in shock. I head down, finding my mother washing up and tutting about the mess on the kitchen table.
This is her doing. “Leave it,” I snap, and she swings to look at me through narrowed eyes. Marcus comes barrelling down the stairs and out the door, slamming it as he goes. Beau yelps and runs at me, crying.
“Hey, whoa, it’s okay,” I shush her. “It’s just the door.” She’s still shaken up from last night.
“What on earth!” Margaret calls. “What did you do?” She marches towards the door, giving me a heated stare.
“Of course it was my fault.” I sigh, rubbing Beau’s back.
“Well, I don’t see you leaving in a haste.”
“That's because it’smyhouse.”
My mother rears back at my remark. Rarely do I ever argue back with her.
“Holly, you are being unpleasantly rude.”
“As opposed to being pleasantly rude, which you have been since you arrived?” I toss a brow up. “Marcus thinks we’re dating because you filled his head with nonsense. That’s not okay. I know you miss us, but manipulating his feelings to suit you isn’t okay. It's not what I want for myself or Beau,” I tell her calmly.“We had a good friendship. Now, all of a sudden, he thinks we’re set for marriage.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” she spits. “Well, I’d like to say this was a nice visit, but unless you check yourself, we won’t be coming again.” She picks her bag up from the side table.
“Beau and I will be sad if you don’t visit. But this ‘We’ business of you and Marcus concocting stops now. Date him yourself if he’s such a catch,” I huff as she storms out. The door slams, and Beau flinches. I blow out a breath and stare at the door for a few minutes. Silence rings through the house. My eyes prick, and I twist into Beau’s hair, calming myself.
“Are you okay?” Jeremy’s voice breaks the quiet. A quiet that feels too loud. This is so embarrassing. I nod and smile over Beau’s head at him.
“Sorry. As you can see, life is still a whirlwind,” I joke.
“Rather that than tumbleweeds.” He winks. “She’s an unforgettable woman,” he comments. He watches out the window as the car reverses out of the drive.
“I'm amazed you and Emily didn't sneak out the window,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood.
“We tried, but her leg support was too big.”
We all laugh, and Beau jerks her head up. Her big eyes are tinted with worry. “Can we have hot chocolate?” she asks, twiddling with my bun.
“We can. Are you staying?” I ask Jeremy.
“For hot chocolate, always.” He gives Beau a thumbs up.
“So, your mum seems nice.”Emily smirks at me later that evening. Beau is fast asleep and we are in the living room watching a rerun ofFRIENDS.
“Oh, a real dime, that one.” I scoff. “She practically set me up with Marcus without me knowing,” I groan.
